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the desert is one of the nastiest places to get lost without food and water. the heat, the elements, the lack of water can be deadly if you’re out there for an extended time, unexpectedly. there’s really nothing pleasant about it–exposed to sun, wind, intense heat, predators, without shade or shelter. while a lot of us may not have ever been stuck in a physical desert, my guess is a lot of us have been stuck in a spiritual one. out in the desert, alone, exhausted, seeking water & shelter and finding none. wondering “when am i going to be rescued? when is God going to show up? when will i even get just a small sip of water, a sign from God, a flutter in my heart, something, that will carry me a little longer?” the spiritual desert is one of the worst places to be because it’s so confusing. if God is so good, then why is he absent? i am showing up, trying to be present, doing my part, and nothing’s changing. what happened? what did i do wrong? how come other people are experiencing God’s love, hope, spirit at work, and i’ve got nothing?

there are no good answers to these questions, really. i don’t understand the desert, either. i have been there myself. seasons where i just don’t feel God the way i used to, the way i long to. i strain and strain to see but everywhere i look i just don’t see what i was hoping for. i begin to question my faith. doubt God. shake my fist at God. ponder just throwing in the towel.

in evangelical christianity, the desert experience sometimes can feel like it has “something to do with us.” if we pray more, serve more, memorize more, get out of ourselves more, anything “more” we’ll “get back on track with God again” and out of the desert quickly. i’m not discounting we play a part, but i think this philosophy creates shame. the reason we’re not feeling or experiencing God is because i’m not doing it the way i should be. i am so familiar with this feeling. when i hear someone talk about how excited they are about God, i am sometimes jealous. and then i immediately go to shame—see, i am not doing what i am supposed to be doing to “get” God. if i only i were a better Christian. it’s all so stupid, really, but i am just being honest about how messed up i got with performance-based christianity.

our spiritual fathers and mothers—christian teachers and mystics and writers over the centuries—all recognized something very powerful about the desert experience. it is part of our journey with God and places where we might learn the very most about ourselves, about Jesus. st. john of the cross, over 500 years ago, experienced what he called “the dark night of the soul”, a complete absence of God for a season. while it seems like a horrible thing in the moment, terrifying, really, this kind of spiritual desolation is looked upon by many spiritual writers as a critical piece of spiritual transformation where everything gets stripped away (all of our works, efforts, techniques) and get down to the essence—God & us. that can sound pretty lofty. maybe even just a trite idea.

but like a lot of trite things, there can be some incredible truth in the triteness.

when all is gone, nothing left, just my weird crazy self straining to see God, feel God, hear God. maybe that’s where the real action happens. but i just don’t see it in the moment. and when i don’t get it, i’m out. i’m mad. i start to walk out to the desert on purpose.

but what i’m wondering these days is if maybe some of my “desert experience” is just that my faith and connection to God has made shifts over the past years & because it’s different it feels somehow “dry” in comparison. what used to be part of our relationship isn’t anymore and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. our relationship is just….different. i still long for the days of the passionate romance where i was just so “in” to the Bible & church & the spiritual high. i’m beginning to embrace that while that was good, real, true for that season, i am just in a different season, and if i look and notice, i see and experience God’s presence still, but it’s just not quite as exciting. i’m not saying i want to settle for less.

i am saying i need to learn to see the good in what is.

meanwhile, i know a lot of us out there feel like they are in the desert. tired. holding on by a thread, wondering when God is going to show up. i don’t have any great answers like i used to, but i do know this. i think we’re supposed to stay in and keep our hearts as open as we are able to. listen for Jesus’ love in some small way you’d never imagine. how we end up experiencing Him might end up being completely contrary to how we’ve ever experienced God before. you are not alone. something bigger is always happening that we cannot see in the moment. and probably what’s been the most sustaining to me when i am lost and wandering: never underestimate what God might be saying through people. sometimes the only thing i have had to hold on to is the word of a friend, God speaking to me through a person.

God, when we’re in the desert, bring us drink. a small cup of water, something that reminds us you’re there. give us strength to hold on, to wait. bring life out of barrenness. remind us what is good. and give us eyes to see even when we’re blinded by our thirst. Amen.